


like a feather bringing kingdoms to their knees.

by oblivoid



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Crowley Was Raphael Before He Fell (Good Omens), M/M, god i'm in pain, they fall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 10:16:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19392058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oblivoid/pseuds/oblivoid
Summary: one question was enough to allow Them to let Raphael fall.





	like a feather bringing kingdoms to their knees.

It was a seemingly normal day in Heaven for Raphael. Samael was facing down their parent, or rather; God. They hadn’t gone by a pronoun. It was the fruitless misogynistic efforts of men that had caused Them to become a He. 

Nobody capitalised their pronouns before that day. Or at least, until humans had caught wind of it.

And of course, as Raphael watched, so did Samael’s friends. Or rather: the gleeful, rebellious brothers of his. God furrowed their brows in anger at Samael’s taunting, their eyes going to the glowing wings on his back. A vicious, uncontrolled gleam entered their eyes. 

And then Raphael’s feathers began to fall, one by one. 

Aziraphale had been reading his books, or rather what had been the first version of them: simple manuscripts consisting of two or less sentences, when a sharp inhale caught his attention.

Smoothing down his wings, Aziraphale looked up to see Raphael, tears that he had never seen before welling in his eyes as his—

His gorgeous, gorgeous wings. The raven black feathers had been dulled to a gray-ebony, the feathers separating itself from Raphael’s back, drifting in the clouds for that one, suspended moment before landing on Heaven’s ground. Blood leaked from his back, tipping the edges of his wings. 

Raphael swayed, and Aziraphale rushed forward to hold onto his best friend. Raphael clutched onto his shoulders, shaking and sobbing as he clawed, again and again for Aziraphale, as if he were the only thing keeping Raphael upright. 

“ _ No, nonononono—” _ Aziraphale breathed, feeling Raphael’s tears dry up against his coat. He watched as those beloved wings shed itself until the bone of Raphael’s wings could be seen. Raphael’s glasses had been thrown to the ground, cracked and broken—just like the way the both of them would be once that day was over—discarded beside his bloody feathers. His eyes were frantic as he searched for a way to tell Raphael it was all going to be okay. 

“Hey, hey. Raphael, angel.” Somehow, they both knew that even though it was only meant as a term of endearment, Raphael would not be an angel much longer. “You’re going to be okay, alright? I’ll talk to our parents, they’ll figure this out. Mom’ll convince them, okay?” 

When Raphael didn’t answer, only continued his horrified sobs, Aziraphale whispered, his voice breaking, “Please don’t leave me.” 

Aziraphale pulled Raphael’s head from his shoulder to face him, their foreheads now touching. Raphael’s eyes were bloodshot red, his serpent eyes wide and his slit pupils dilated. He said, “I love you. I’m so sorry, I’m so, so  _ sorry.” _

“I love you too, Raphael. Don’t leave me, okay? Don’t you dare. Angel, you’ve told me never to give up. Who was the one who laughed at all of my stupid jokes?” Raphael gave a horse, cracked laugh at that. “You’re an angel. Those… those wings don’t define you. Your heart does. Remember me, okay? Remember me.” 

And then Samael, now known as Lucifer, fell with his fellow brothers, condemned by God to dwell in the underworld: a place not much different from the clean. white walls of Heaven, albeit a bit darker and bloodier. 

But what no one tells you is that, the day when the angels fell from heaven, their wings unable to catch the wind and keep them soaring, and their parent giving up on them, unwilling to keep them in the skies no longer, appeared a bird who would sing; a nightingale, if you will, on the land which would become Berkeley Square millennia later, and wept. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> okay, so i cried a lot writing this,, it's based off of this drawing by speremints of crowley sobbing into zira and i just had to write it. also, god is non-binary, so SUCK IT. you can find me on twitter as @lightwooddbcnes


End file.
